


Lonely Departure – Hyunjin

by InoruMarufuji



Series: Nightmare [5]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bine you have a VIP pass so feel free to enter, Bine's Birthday Celebration: SKZ Nightmare Series, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Disjointed narrative, Gen, Hallucinations, I don't think there's any hope for me, Keep walking, No Spoilers, Puzzle fic, THIS HELL IS MEMBERS ONLY, They aren't specified because spoilers, Unreliable Narrator, lots and lots of it, triggering elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21849073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InoruMarufuji/pseuds/InoruMarufuji
Summary: [M̶a̶z̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶M̶e̶m̶o̶r̶i̶e̶s̶ ̶ |S̳i̳d̳e̳ ̳E̳f̳f̳e̳c̳t̳s̳][5/9] Get out of the way (Actually, I am) - Side Effects
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Everyone
Series: Nightmare [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569787
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Lonely Departure – Hyunjin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken/gifts).



> It's already part 5, let's go!  
> We're halfway there~

[ ~~Maze of Memories~~ | **Side Effects** ]

Hyunjin was pretty sure he was bleeding.

He couldn't tell from where or why or even who, but there was undoubtedly blood on the path he was walking on and a dull ache that slowly took over his entire body, trying to reduce him to nothingness.

He didn't know where he was.

His surroundings were unfamiliar, he couldn't see anything else other than a wide field of flowers, their yellow blossoms smiling at him encouragingly and blinding him with ethereal radiance.

Dandelions.

Those were dandelions, heaps upon heaps spread out in front of him, waving at him, bowing their heads as he passed them, not even caring that he trampled them down in an attempt to make a path for himself.

He stained their beautiful field with blood, red mixing with green and yellow behind him, and yet they didn't care.

They had numbers on their side, they didn't feel threatened by him because he was only one and they were thousands upon thousands, always ready to put him back into place if he felt like rebelling.

But it wasn't like that was a choice right now.

He could barely stand the mere sight of these flowers, could barely make out how the horizon blurred, could barely keep himself from swaying because he was losing so much blood.

Where was he?

He looked back over his shoulder, but the field never disappeared from his vision, stretching out endlessly wherever his gaze wandered and the dandelions happily waved at him.

Hyunjin couldn't bring himself to wave back.

He just kept wandering through this field, trying to reach an end that didn't exist while his body was giving up on him more and more.

As if on cue, his knees buckled and he staggered, yet with an enormous effort, he managed to catch himself in time before he could crash onto the ground.

The dandelions just smiled. Assholes.

He exhaled shakily and brought a hand up to rub his eyes as he noticed his vision going out of focus more than he was able to tolerate.

The continuous waving all around him hurt his head, but he didn't want to look at the ground either because he couldn't stand the marks that ran through the grass, two parallel lines, connected by several horizontal lines.

Train tracks.

Long ago, there had to have been a train running through this field, but the tracks had long since overgrown with moss, nothing more than a quiet memory in the suffocating field of yellow.

Everything was so quiet in general, there wasn't a single sound that reached his ears, not even the howling of the wind that was causing the flowers to wave.

It was quiet and he didn't like that.

It made him all the more conscious about the fact that he was all alone out here, having strayed so far from his path that he thought he had landed in another world.

The sky above him didn't hold any reassurance either, there wasn't even a sun gently shining down on him or clouds drifting over his head.

No, whenever he looked above him, he saw his own reflection wandering through an endless field of dandelions, the sky nothing more than a mirror to show him how lonely he truly was.

His mirror version didn't bleed, his mirror version strided through the field excitedly, his mirror version balanced on the train tracks that were completely bare, no moss covering them, indicating that they were still being used.

Most important of all though, his mirror version wasn't alone.

His members were there with him in that mirror field, the conversation seemingly going back and forth in a relaxed manner between them, but Hyunjin couldn't _hear_ anything and it was so frustrating that he was left out like this, that he was down here while the members were up there.

But no matter how loudly he screamed at the sky, his voice didn't reach beyond the mirror and at this point, he was sick of trying, so he had chosen to continue his way on his own.

Loneliness had never been a problem for him, not in a house of eight, so the contrast to now was so much worse.

He yearned to just see someone, some _thing_ besides the flowers surrounding him, but there was nothing but himself and his old memories floating above.

It was like that one place out of Greek mythology, the endless field that ordinary souls wandered through for all eternity after their death because they hadn't been living an exciting life.

Was that it?

Was he dead?

He might be, right?

The dandelions waved, looking at him derisively as if they enjoyed his confusion, his suffering and he shot them an irritated look back, his vision blurring once more.

Even through he headache that befell him, he saw something a bit to the side, a trampled path leading to a spot devoid of any flowers, and his heart did a weird jump as he noticed someone in the middle of that spot.

A person.

There was a person here.

Without thinking twice about it, Hyunjin immediately changed direction, dragging himself over to the flowerless spot and it was only after he'd gotten closer that he noticed that there was a makeshift cross made of wood plunged into the ground.

Some flowers and letters had been placed on the ground in front of it and it was with a sinking feeling that Hyunjin glanced at what was carved into the wood.

_Lee Chan._

_1999 - 2019_

Seventeen's maknae.

''I don't _understand._ ''

The boy in front of the improvised grave stared at the words, very well aware of Hyunjin's presence, but not bothered to acknowledge him.

His pink hair was ruffled and messy as the wind played with the strands, but that was nothing more than an illusion.

''How did I die?''

Hyunjin wondered about that too.

The sky above him certainly didn't help, that was for sure.

It still showed his members, no sign of a cross or Seventeen's maknae anywhere to be found in that twisted reflection.

''Dino?'', he asked hesitantly, the need for conversation overwhelming after he'd been lost in silence for so long.

Chan turned to face him, pale as a corpse and an underlying distress visible in his gaze as he slowly shook his head.

''That's not my name anymore.''

''Hyung?'', he tried again, the word echoing in the space around them.

A painful throb manifested in the back of his head and more blood gushed out of the wound he had sustained, making him wonder why he hadn't lost consciousness yet.

But then again, it was hard to lose consciousness when he was already dead.

How did he die?

Where was his gravestone?

Chan smiled sadly, obviously able to read his mind to some degree and made a vague movement with his head further into the field.

''You should keep going, I have a feeling there's someone waiting for you.''

Hyunjin didn't want to keep going. He couldn't.

He felt drained and dizzy, not to mention completely confused about everything he saw around him and what it meant.

Most of all he didn't want to be alone in death, didn't want to go back to wandering through this field alone after he'd found someone at last, no matter how intriguing the prospect of someone waiting for him was.

He just wanted to lie down and bleed out in peace while the dandelions kept waving and the sky kept reflecting a life he was unable to get back.

''Hyunjin'', Chan urged him again, this time more forcefully as he handed him a neatly folded piece of paper. ''Go.''

''Aren't you going to come with me?''

The words were out before he could stop himself and he briefly saw a look of yearning on the older's face, however, it was gone only a second afterwards, replaced only by a mix of sadness and regret.

''No, I have to...''

His voice caught in his throat, but by the way his gaze darted over towards his grave, Hyunjin had a pretty good idea what he had wanted to say.

There were some unshed tears in his eyes and it was then that he understood that he had probably interrupted Chan in his mourning over himself.

He gripped the paper tightly and slightly bowed in apology before taking a step back to leave Chan to himself.

Almost instantly, the older boy dissolved into light in front of him, leaving no trace of his existence behind except the grave with its colorful flowers and letters.

He was back to being alone.

But this shouldn't bother him.

After all, he had to get used to this whole 'being alone' thing now that he was dead and his members were not.

Or... were they?

He tried searching his memories for any sort of information concerning the matter, but he didn't come up with anything except a vague blur of Jisung talking to him in a hushed voice.

The younger had been so restless, so confused, so scared, but about what, Hyunjin didn't know.

He truly did not know and it was the most horrifying experience to be completely robbed of any memories about the people he had spent several years with now, the people he thought he knew like the back of his hand.

Obviously not.

His head hurt at the sudden revelation and he found it increasingly difficult to remain standing with the way the dandelions seemed to be pushing him around cruelly.

They weren't touching him, but the control they had over him was more than apparent and he hated it. He hated these flowers. He hated the garden they grew in. He hated what they stood for. He hated that they were the main actors in his nightmares. He hated that they had followed him here. He hated that they looked so pretty waving like this.

He hated his life.

He hated his death too.

Maybe not in general, but he had a problem with being alone and his thoughts drifting off into dangerous waters as a result which he tried to keep to a minimum by sticking to his members' sides whenever he could.

It had never been an issue for them before, but for some time now, they had all changed and it was only when Seungmin had hissed at him furiously that he had truly noticed just how much of a mess they were.

And then he'd been alone with his thoughts again.

He looked up at the mirror sky.

His mirror version had dropped to the ground, hands picking at the blades of grass absentmindedly, expression completely at ease while the rest of the members were all but nestled up against each other, Chan looking over them fondly.

He could see everything so clearly, so distinctively that it almost didn't feel like a reflection anymore.

Minho's fingers tangled in Jisung's hair as he seemed to admire the soft strands.

Jeongin draped over Seungmin's lap, half protesting against, half giving into the feeling of Seungmin pinching his cheeks in an attempt to agitate him.

Felix and Changbin just casually leaning against each other, not really talking, but instead enjoying each other's presence quietly, already half asleep.

It was a peaceful scene, one that Hyunjin couldn't bear looking at, yet before he had the chance to avert his gaze, Chan suddenly reached into the pocket of his jeans and playfully waved a piece of paper in front of his mirror self.

As expected, his mirror self reached out to take the paper from Chan right away who merely laughed and held it out of reach again.

A short and intense, but harmless fight ensued after that, ending with Chan triumphantly grinning as he held his mirror self down with one hand, the other still waving the paper around.

His mirror self was out of breath from holding his ground against the leader, but nonetheless, a wide smile was plastered on his face, his hands held up in a sign of surrender.

Minho had gone from looking at Jisung to watching the scene with affection in his eyes, but after a few more seconds, he suddenly shivered violently, his arms coming up to hug himself in a desperate attempt to try and keep himself warm.

The action was out of place, even more so when nobody seemed to register it, and before Hyunjin knew it, Minho was looking at him.

_Actually looking at him._

He wasn't just looking in his general direction by chance, no, he was actually _seeing_ him and Hyunjin really thought he had lost it until a small smile was forming on his hyung's lips.

This wasn't his mind making up some shit to keep him sane, this was actually happening.

He didn't understand, but he wasn't about to complain.

''Hyung?'', he asked, his voice unsure and maybe even a little scared that this moment would end up being a product of his dying brain.

Dying? Or dead?

Minho perked up at the sound of his voice and nodded to show that he had heard Hyunjin before pointing to the paper in Chan's grasp.

Hyunjin's gaze fell on his own paper and he held it up for confirmation, earning another nod in response.

Minho wanted him to open the paper? Why?

What was in there? Did it even matter now that he was dead?

He carefully unfolded it anyway, random scribbles and messy blocks of text greeting him as he scanned over the paper, trying to judge who it was from.

Sure, Seventeen's Chan had given this to him, but was he the one who had written it too?

_When I meet you again in my dream, I want to ask you why I suddenly crave salad so much._

He read over the words a second time, convinced that his brain got them wrong the first time, but they stayed the same and it confused him.

It sounded like rambling, it sounded irrelevant and still, something in his heart constricted painfully.

_I've had salad yesterday and the day before and the day before and the day before and the day before and the day before and the day before and the day before and-_

It went on for lines upon lines, all the way to the bottom of the paper.

And then it suddenly broke off, just like that.

_-and the day before and the day before and the day before and I really think I crave something else entirely._

He turned the paper around.

_I don't crave food._

_I don't crave touches._

_I don't crave conversation._

_I don't crave anything._

_So what do I crave?_

The words stared up at him, written with the same ink, written in the same font, written by the same person and still, there was something off about them.

''Hyung, wha-''

He tried to meet Minho's gaze again, hoping to gain some clarity what this was about, but to his disappointment, Minho had already turned away and was now engrossed in a conversation with his mirror self, both of them seemingly agitated.

And he was back to being alone.

But this shouldn't bother him anymore.

A searing pain ripped through his head and more red flooded his vision, an endless stream running over the ground and painting the grass.

And the dandelions waved. They waved and waved and waved some more.

And he was still alone.

Still? Or again?

He didn't know anymore.

_''You should keep going, I have a feeling there's someone waiting for you.''_

The voice was like a gust of wind, belonging to a poor soul that was not yet allowed to rest, and Hyunjin listened to what it said this time, wanting to honor the last remark it had made.

So off into the field he went again, the sky portraying his past, dandelions outlining his present and blood marking his future.

He was tired, so overwhelmingly tired, and he noticed his vision going out of focus again, but he couldn't be bothered to rub his eyes anymore because what good did that do?

Somewhere, far away at the horizon, there was the outline of a train silently rushing through the serene field, but the next minute, it was gone again.

There was another wooden cross to his side, a vision of a boy crouching down in front of it flashing at the corner of his vision, but the next minute, it was gone again.

There was an echo of someone calling his name from all around him, reverberating eerily, but the next minute, it was--...

''Hyunjin!''

It was still there.

Still? Or again?

It was getting harder and harder to tell with the way his mind slowly clouded over from loss of blood, but why was it that way?

Wasn't he dead?

''Hyunjin?''

That voice called again and it made a warm fuzzy feeling spread all throughout his body.

Even though he couldn't see who was there, he knew that he wasn't alone.

Someone was around. It was going to be fine.

It had to be.

''I'm here!''

He had no idea whether his voice was capable of reaching anyone, but he sincerely hoped his heart would at least.

He wanted to be found.

He couldn't stand being alone.

He couldn't stand _dying_ alone.

And it was terrifying that he would.

The sun shyly peeked through the trees, reflecting on the red water and tinting the scene in a calming orange glow.

He was drenched to his bones in the ice cold water that was splashing around him peacefully, carrying away more and more of his life with it.

He could barely keep his eyes open at this point and every time he tried, his vision would blur into a mess of reds and blacks and whites that made his head thump with pain.

His body had stopped responding to him for a while now, seemingly trying its best to stay alive by focusing all its energy on core functions, but Hyunjin just wished it would finally give up and grant him sweet release.

He couldn't do this anymore.

A lonely tear escaped his eyes, but he didn't have the strength to wipe it away anymore.

He wondered why he hadn't died yet. His mind was already gone, so far gone that it had dragged him off to a place he had come to realize was the closest to hell he would ever experience, but as long as his body showed pitiful signs of being awake, no matter how small, he couldn't cross over into hell.

He was dead and still, he wasn't.

Every ragged breath stung, every movement sent electricity through his muscles, every thought was gushing out of him as a painful reminder of his impending death.

He knew there was a piece of paper floating somewhere on the water next to him, a piece of paper like the one Chan had entrusted him with, but the ink had probably blended, the words nothing more than an incomprehensible scribble on sodden paper.

Something akin to a broken sob escaped him, a last desperate attempt at being granted some kind of mercy, but of course, he didn't listen.

Why should he?

He hadn't listened earlier and he wouldn't listen now.

Hyunjin wondered when it had all started to fall apart, when it had become a normal thing to break each other without mercy and when he had started to accept it.

Colors danced in front of his eyes, dark spots invaded his vision and despite everything, he could still bring himself to smile one last time before he broke down into ugly sobs again.

There was no point in smiling if there was no one around he could reassure with it.

He was alone.

Still? Or again?

There was no answer.

Only the splashing of water resounded across the forest, mixed with the soft thud of retreating footsteps and Hyunjin's sobs as it dawned on him that he would meet his end alone.

Completely alone.

A lonely departure.

[5/9] Fictatious walls built of suspicious eyes


End file.
